


Brothers

by Attenia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Out of Character Legolas Greenleaf, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 12:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18121151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: Something is wrong with Legolas, and he won't talk to anyone. When his own efforts fail, Thranduil sends his son to Imladris for help.  It is now on Aragorn to find out what happened to his best friend and how to help him. OOC Legolas. Trigger warnings for suicide attempt, self-harm, panic attacks, eating disorder.





	1. Chapter 1

Aragorn  
Aragorn wandered into the dining hall at around mid-morning, having slept in. He’d been up late with Elladan and Elohir.   
Elrond was sitting at the head of the table, reading a letter, a frown on his face. He looked up as Aragorn entered, noticing his slight limp. Elrond sighed. “What is it this time, Estel?”  
“Nothing, Ada.”  
The letter was put aside as Elrond came over and knelt down. Aragorn tried to twist away, but he was unsuccessful, and finally held still as his father examined his leg.   
“Let me guess. You and your brothers were climbing again.”  
“It wasn’t their fault! They told me to come down before I got to the high branches…”  
Elrond sighed, shaking his head. “Sometimes, ion nin, you forget that you are not an elf.”  
Aragorn caught the slight hint of a smile. Elrond poked and prodded for a few minutes before he was satisfied. “Well, you’ve treated it correctly, at least. When I insisted you and your brothers learned the healing arts from me, I never dreamed now necessary they would become.”  
Aragorn chuckled as he dug into a late breakfast, while Elrond went back to reading the letter, his frown becoming more pronounced. “Ada, is everything alright?”  
“I’m not sure. This is a letter from Thranduil. Legolas will be coming to stay with us for a bit.”  
Aragorn brightened. It had been nearly two weeks since he’d seen his best friend. “I thought he was needed at Mirkwood?” There was a band of orcs that had been giving the Mirkwood elves some trouble. He’d wanted to stay and help, but Elrond had needed him home for some trouble with orcs at their own borders, trouble that had thankfully abated by now. They’d cleared out all the orcs they’d found, and were hopeful that they’d gotten them all.   
A hint of a smile played across the elf lord’s features. “Don’t let Legolas catch you calling it that.”  
Aragorn rolled his eyes, but Elrond wasn’t wrong. The last time he’d slipped up and used the common name for Legolas’ home – a name that irritated the prince to no end – he’d woken up the next morning in the middle of the lake.  
“Greenwood, then. Wasn’t he needed there?”  
“He was. Something has happened, though Thranduil doesn’t know what. Legolas won’t talk to him.”  
“What happened? Is Legolas hurt?”  
“It doesn’t say.” Elrond folded the letter up. “This just arrived this morning. Legolas should be here in a few days.”  
Those days passed slowly as Aragorn wondered what could be wrong with Legolas. He’d been fine the last time they parted. He wanted to ride out to meet him, but Elladan convinced him that he was just as likely to miss Legolas as not, so Aragorn waited.  
“Come on, little brother, stop moping!” Elohir chucked a sock at him, which Aragorn dodged.   
“I’m not moping. I’m just worried.”  
Elohir’s expression softened. “He’ll be fine. With the number of scrapes you and Legolas have gotten yourselves into and survived, I’d say you’re damn near invincible.”  
Elladan nudged Aragorn’s shoulder with his. “I think someone needs a distraction. Who’s up for swimming in the lake? Unless you’re still too injured to go, that is.”  
“I’m fine!” Aragorn leapt to his feet, never one to back down from such a challenge. “Race you there.”  
His brothers did a good job of distracting him, though Aragorn always kept a keen eye on the gate whenever it was in his line of sight, waiting for his friend.   
Finally, on the third day, he spotted the prince’s horse, followed by another. Legolas was slumped and his head hanging. Aragorn ran over, convinced his friend was injured.   
“Legolas? Mellon nin, what’s wrong?” He took the bridle and tugged Legolas off the horse, looking him up and down. The prince looked exhausted. More than that, he looked defeated. His eyes were dull, and his usually cheerful demeanor was nowhere in evidence.   
Aragorn looked up at the elf who accompanied him, Asatir, the head of the Mirkwood guard. “What happened?”  
Asatir shook his head. “He’s been like this ever since he got back from patrol two weeks ago now. Do you have him? Thranduil sent me to be sure he got here, but I’m needed back at Greenwood.”  
“I have him,” Aragorn said, his concern mounting by the moment. “Come on, mellon nin.”  
“I’m fine, Estel,” Legolas snapped, jerking his arm away. “I can walk.”  
Aragorn rolled his eyes. ‘Fine’ from Legolas meant something distinctly different than what it meant when anyone else said it. He could be bleeding to death and still say he was fine; indeed, that had happened before. They walked side-by-side in the direction of the healing halls. Aragorn was surprised when Legolas didn’t protest.   
“Legolas! There you are, we’ve been waiting –” Elladan’s voice cut off when he got a glimpse of the prince. “I’ll get Ada.”  
“No, I’m not sick!”  
Elladan ignored this and sped off.   
Aragorn finally got Legolas into a bed. The prince sat slumped, refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.   
Aragorn tenderly brushed the hair back from his face. “Mellon nin, talk to me. What has happened to you?”  
“Nothing. I’m fine.”  
Elrond hurried in, followed by the twins, who were both watching Legolas with concern. Legolas allowed the elf lord to examine him, but protested so violently to his tunic being taken off that Elrond eventually gave up on that, simply lifting it to check Legolas’ torso for any wounds. He pulled Aragorn and his brothers aside.   
“He has some healing physical injuries, but nothing life-threatening. It’s obvious that something has happened to him, though. Estel, you should watch him closely. I’ve never seen Legolas like this.”  
“Yes, Ada.” Aragorn hardly needed his father’s warning. He looked around to see Legolas wandering the halls, a blank expression on his face. He lingered near the cupboard where Elrond kept his potions, and Aragorn had to pull him gently away. “Come on, Legolas, let’s get you to bed.”   
The elf protested weakly, but allowed Aragorn to tug him along. He was trembling, and refused to meet Aragorn’s eyes even as the man tucked him into bed, flinching as Aragorn gripped his arms. Aragorn loosened his grip, but remained resolute, lying down next to the elf. He knew from experience that pushing Legolas to talk before he was ready would do more harm than good, so he started telling his friend about life at Imladris since they had parted.  
The recent exploits he and his brothers had been involved in brought a weak smile from the prince. It wasn’t long, though, before the prince succumbed to exhaustion and drifted off to sleep. Aragorn sighed, not moving from his position next to Legolas, not wanting to leave his friend alone.   
The sunlight woke him the next morning. Legolas was gone.  
Normally, this wouldn’t be a cause for concern, but with the strange mood Legolas was in, Aragorn was worried. He quickly searched the house and grounds, paying particular attention to the treetops, but Legolas wasn’t there.  
Growling under his breath, Aragorn jogged to his room and grabbed a pack with some basic supplies. He knew where Legolas went when he wanted to be alone – there was a lake just a few hours’ travel from Imladris. It wasn’t hard to pick up his friend’s tracks, and Aragorn hurried along, wondering what had gotten into the prince.  
As soon as he got close, Aragorn knew something was wrong. He glimpsed dark shapes across the lake. Orcs. One of them was aiming a bow at a small, pale figure on the opposite side. Legolas sat huddled against a rock, and made no move to evade the orcs.  
“Legolas!” He didn’t even look up as Aragorn shouted, and a bolt from one of the orcs’ crossbows buried itself in his shoulder. Growling in anger, Aragorn took out his own bow and started shooting. The orcs quickly realized they were outmatched and ran. Aragorn pursued them, knowing he couldn’t leave a threat alive so close to Imladris.   
Fortunately, there were only five of them, and they quickly fell to his blade. He’d have to tell Elrond that the problem with the orcs wasn’t as resolved as they’d hoped.  
Aragorn ran back to find Legolas in the same position as when he’d left.  
Legolas had made no move to stem to the flow of blood. Cursing, Aragorn pressed his hands to the wound. The arrow had gone right through the shoulder, and in one swift movement, he pulled it out. Legolas cried out in pain and jerked slightly. Aragorn laid him down on his back, shocked at how pale and sweaty his friend was. Even if the arrow had been poisoned, there was no poison he knew of that worked this quickly.   
He tugged at the prince’s tunic, but Legolas struggled fiercely. “I have to get this off, mellon nin,” Aragorn explained patiently. “I need to treat your wound.”  
Legolas shook his head, but Aragorn ignored him, easily overpowering the weakened elf. Legolas immediately crossed his arms over his stomach. Aragorn pried them away, fearing a stomach wound in addition to the one in his shoulder but saw no wound there. A flash of red caught his eye and he turned Legolas’s arms over.  
His heart sank. The elf’s forearms were covered in dark red slashes, some old, some new. It was only too obvious that he had done this to himself. None of the cuts were bleeding at the moment, but they were deep and he’d need to have his Ada look at them.  
“What have you done, mellon nin?” Aragorn groaned. Legolas’ head fell back against the rock. He was cold and clammy. Aragorn quickly bandaged the shoulder wound, but it didn’t seem serious. What, then, was wrong with Legolas?  
Deciding it was a matter better dealt with by his father, Aragorn moved to pick the prince up. The movement dislodged a small bottle. Aragorn recognized it as one of Elrond’s herbs, one that was kept in the cupboard Legolas had wandered off to yesterday. He snatched it up and read the label.   
When he did, he felt himself swaying and had to press a hand to a nearby tree to steady himself. This was poison. The bottle was empty. It was also clearly labelled as poisonous. No one could drink this by accident without knowing what it was.  
Though the day was warm, Aragorn was suddenly cold. Legolas had tried to kill himself.  
Wiping aside his tears, Aragorn picked up his light friend, clutching him close. “It’ll be ok, mellon nin,” he whispered. “Ada will help you.”  
At these words, Legolas renewed his struggles. “No… Estel, leave me here. Let me die.”  
The word sent a shard of pain through Aragorn’s heart. “I cannot, gwador. You must live.”  
Aragorn set off running, praying he was in time. Legolas was limp in his arms, and Aragorn feared he wouldn’t make it back to Imladris. He quickly set the elf down and rummaged through his bag. He didn’t have the antidote to the poison, but he had herbs that could give Legolas strength, buying time until they made it back.  
Predictably, Legolas resisted taking the herbs, and Aragorn was forced to shove them into his mouth, holding his jaw tightly until the prince swallowed. Aragorn set off running again, but he hadn’t gone far before a slight click warned him a second too late that he should have been paying more attention to his path.   
Spikes shot up from the ground, one of them piercing Aragorn through the leg. He cried out as he fell, somehow managing to shield Legolas from the sharp points. Unfortunately, the elf’s head cracked against a flat stone. Aragorn cursed, checking the rapidly rising bump. It looked sore, but fortunately not critical. The orcs must have been setting traps. They were dead now, but how long until their kin came looking for them?  
Aragorn tried to pull his leg free, but the wicked spike was barbed, and stars bust before his eyes as he tugged fruitlessly at his leg. It was stuck.   
He fell to the ground, panting, trying to ignore the fire that seemed to emanate from the wound.   
Legolas was shaking like a leaf, his eyes glazed.  
“Legolas? Mellon nin, where does it hurt?”  
“No… not again… please.” The prince’s eyes were far away, immersed in memories.   
Aragorn held him close and shook him slightly. “Talk to me, Legolas. What is wrong?”  
His friend’s haunted eyes met his, seeming to come back to the present. “It’s all my fault,” he whispered.   
“What’s your fault?”  
Legolas cringed, his fingers digging into Aragorn’s arm. “He’s dead because of me, Estel. All my fault. I don’t deserve to live. You should have let me die.”  
Aragorn couldn’t hold back tears as the words hit him like a physical blow. “I would never allow that, gwador. Please, tell me, what happened?”  
Legolas hesitated for a few more moments before starting to speak in a soft voice. “I was out on patrol. I’d sent the guards with me back. They were exhausted, they’d been walking double shifts for the past week. I was sure I could handle it myself. I came across Haldir on the road. He’d heard of our troubles and travelled from Lothlorien to help us.   
“We started back to the palace when we were ambushed. If I hadn’t sent the guards away, we would have been fine… but the orcs captured us.”  
Aragorn clutched his friend a bit tighter, but didn’t say anything. Legolas was shaking so hard now that Aragorn had to hold him still to prevent him from injuring his shoulder further.   
“They wanted to know what routes my father’s guards were guarding, and which ones they weren’t. I wouldn’t tell them, so they tortured me. When that didn’t work, they tortured Haldir in front of my eyes. I still wouldn’t tell. Haldir shouted at me to keep silent, but I could have spared him the pain.   
They tortured him for days, and then, when they realized it wasn’t working, they killed him. They killed him, and I could have prevented it. They took his body away, I didn’t see where. My father’s men found and rescued me in the end. But Haldir…”  
Aragorn knew that Haldir was one of Legolas’ close friends. He struggled to steady his voice as he spoke to the shaking elf. “It wasn’t your fault, mellon nin. Had you spoken, many more would have died.”  
“I should have…” Legolas trailed off, his voice slurring alarmingly. Aragorn tried once again to free his leg of the trap, but that only brought him to the brink of passing out. He knew his brothers would find him. They would have noticed by now that he was missing. He only hoped they weren’t too late.  
As if things couldn’t be any worse, the skies opened and it started to rain.  
Aragorn wanted to scream in frustration as he tried to shield Legolas with his body, but they were both getting soaked. As weak as Legolas was, he couldn’t afford to be cold, too. Slowly, darkness fell.   
“Stay awake, Legolas.” Aragorn patted the elf’s face lightly, and Legolas groaned.   
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s all my fault.”  
“It’s not your fault,” Aragon assured, not even sure if Legolas could hear him. “No, don’t go to sleep. Saes, mellon nin! Stay with me.” He didn’t know how much longer his friend could survive in this state.  
He drifted in and out, weak from the loss of blood. At first, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but he blinked, and a distant light came into focus. He heard a voice, calling his name. He knew that voice, and it wasn’t his brothers.  
“Ada! Ada, we’re here!” Relief filled him. Elrond would be able to help Legolas right here and now, without the twins needing to get him back to Imladris first.  
Elrond burst upon the scene, sword in hand. He swiftly assessed the situation, kneeling down by Aragorn’s side. He turned back and called into the trees. “Elladan, Elohir, here, I’ve found him!” Elrond turned to Aragorn’s wound, but Aragorn batted his hands away. “Legolas… Ada, he tried to poison himself. Please, you have to help him.”  
“I will, Estel, I promise. Just lie back, now, and try to relax. I’m going to have to free your leg.”  
Aragorn knew the pain was coming and tried to brace himself for it. Elrond gently probed the wound, getting ready to cut the spike free.   
“Hold still, Estel, I’m going to pull you loose now.”  
Aragorn cried out and arched up as the pain turned into a fiery inferno before the world went black.   
He awoke to a jarring movement. He was on a horse. He glanced back to see Elohir behind him, holding him on. “Legolas?”  
“Ada has him. Hold on, Estel, we’re nearly home.”  
Time blurred out, and the next time Aragorn was aware, they were at Imladris. Elohir tried to lead him away, but Aragorn refused, his eyes fixed on Legolas’ limp body as Elrond carried him in.   
“Come on, Estel, your leg needs attention.”  
“No, I won’t leave him!” Aragorn stumbled to Legolas’ bedside, where Elrond was already working frantically over him. Elladan was handing his father herbs and bandages. Aragorn’s insides clenched at how pale Legolas was. “Will he be ok? Ada?”  
“Hush, let me work ion nin. Let your brother tend to your wound.”  
Aragorn shook his head, clutching Legolas’s cold hand.   
“Estel, don’t be an idiot, let’s go.” Elohir tried to pull him away, but Aragorn resisted fiercely. Elrond looked up at him for a moment.   
“Glorfindel!” he called, turning his head slightly toward the healing halls entrance. The elf lord appeared a few moments later.”Hir nin?”  
“Get my son to a bed.”  
“No, no, let me stay with him!” Aragorn struggled fiercely as Elohir and Glorfindel dragged him away, but he was no match for them.   
The last thing he remembered was Elrond leaning over Legolas, checking his pulse. Aragorn didn’t even know if his friend was still alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Legolas  
Legolas groaned as he cracked his eyes open. His head pounded worse than the time the twins had dared him and Estel to drink a full barrel of Elrond’s finest wine. It felt as though a dozen drunken dwarves were having a party inside his skull.   
The pain receded to the back of his mind as he realized the implications of his waking. Why was he alive? He didn’t deserve to be alive. What had he done wrong? The poison was deadly, he knew that much.  
He blinked, and slowly, Lord Elrond came into focus, sitting in a chair close to the bed. Of course. Estel had found him, and taken Legolas to Elrond for healing.   
“You’re awake.” Elrond leaned forward, briskly taking Legolas’ temperature. “I need to talk to you.”  
He’d known this was coming, and Legolas shook his head. “I’m fine. I don’t need to talk.”  
“I need to talk to you about my son.”  
Legolas jolted in alarm, trying to sit up, but Elrond’s firm hand held him down. “Estel? Is he alright?”  
“No, he’s not alright, nor will he be, not unless you can help him.”  
“I’ll do anything,” Legolas breathed. “What does he need?”  
“He needs you. He needs you to live.”  
Legolas dropped his gaze. “I can’t.”  
“You can, and you will. Estel is mortal. What do you think losing his brother will do to him? Elves aren’t the only ones who can die of a broken heart, you know.”  
These words sent fear spiraling through Legolas. Elrond continued regardless. “You know how he feels about you. You’re a brother to him as much as Elladan and Elohir. He can’t lose you, Legolas. You have to fight, for him.”  
“I can’t.” Legolas couldn’t bite back the sob that escaped. “It hurts too much.”  
Elrond’s expression softened. “We are all here for you, Legolas. You aren’t in this alone. You’ll get through this, I promise.”  
Legolas wasn’t so sure. He already hated himself for not thinking of his best friend before acting to ease his own guilt. He would not be responsible for causing pain to his heart’s brother. He couldn’t take it.  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.   
“I know. Don’t worry, everything will work out. If you’re up to it, Estel has been demanding to see you, quite forcefully, since he woke up.”  
“I’m up for it,” Legolas said quickly.   
“Glorfindel, you can let him in now.”  
A scuffle outside was followed by the door bursting open. Estel was limping heavily, but he rushed to Legolas’ side, snatching up his hands. “Legolas! How are you feeling mellon nin?”  
“Fine,” Legolas said automatically. Estel chuckled weakly. He nudged the prince, who moved over so that Estel could lie down next to him. “How’s your leg?”  
“All bandaged up. It’s you I’m worried about.”  
Legolas flinched. “Estel… I’m so sorry. I didn’t think of you, what it would do to you if I… it just hurt so much…”  
He swiped angrily at the tears he couldn’t hold back, but Estel caught his wrist, gently wiping his cheeks. “I know, mellon nin. Just please, promise me you’ll talk to me before you do anything like that again.”  
Legolas nodded reluctantly. “I keep seeing him,” he whispered. “In my dreams, and when I’m awake. He haunts me.” He was shaking now, and Estel held him tightly. Legolas tried to choke back the sorrow, but he’d been doing that for weeks, and the dam was breaking.  
Sobs burst out as he melted into his friend’s embrace, his fingers clutching at Estel’s shirt. “It’s my fault. I can’t live knowing he died because of me, I can’t, Estel.”  
“It’s not your fault,” Estel whispered. “I promise it’s not.”  
“It is,” Legolas moaned.   
“Listen to me, mellon nin.” Estel held him close, stroking his hair as Legolas shook. “If things were the other way around, if Haldir had refused to give information on Lothlorien that could hurt many people, and you were killed as a result, would you blame him?”  
“Of – of course not. He would be foolish to give such information out, even if it meant my life.”  
“You see?” Estel said gently.   
Legolas did see, but the weight of guilt in his chest was reluctant to give in to such an argument. “It still hurts.”  
“I know, gwador, I know. It will hurt, for a long time. I’ll be here for you, though, and so will Ada and the twins. You can make it through this, I promise.”  
Legolas met his friend’s eyes. Estel looked steadily at him, offering a slight smile of encouragement. Exhausted, Legolas let his head drop, resting on Estel’s chest.   
“Just promise me you’ll try,” Estel whispered.   
“I promise.” That much, he could promise. “I don’t know if I’ll get better, though.”  
“You will. That, I can promise you. You will.”  
There was such faith, such hope in Estel’s voice, that for the first time in weeks, Legolas felt a small ray of light in the darkness that had become his world. Eventually, exhaustion took him and he drifted off in his friend’s arms, knowing that whatever tomorrow brought it, he’d face it with his brother at his side. 

Aragorn  
Aragorn woke up to find Legolas clinging to his waist in sleep. He smiled, stroking his friend’s hair. Legolas was still too pale, but he looked infinitely better than he had the previous day. He tried his best not to move, but all too soon, Legolas stirred.  
“Estel?”  
“I’m here. How are you feeling?”  
Legolas shrugged, his face miserable. Aragorn squeezed his shoulder. “I know, gwador, I know. Tell me, what can I do?”  
“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”  
Aragorn’s suspicion was instantly aroused. “Mellon nin, I’d be a fool to allow that, after what you did yesterday.”  
“I was the fool,” Legolas whispered. “I didn’t think of you, of what I would be doing to you. I would gladly suffer any pain to spare you, gwador. I won’t try to kill myself again, I promise.”  
Aragorn hesitated. “Alright, but I’m coming back to check on you in ten minutes.”  
“Agreed. Thanks, Estel.”  
Aragorn paced outside the healing halls as he waited for the allotted ten minutes to expire. When they finally did, he went back inside to find Legolas even paler than before, but he seemed in better spirits. He even smiled a little. “So, when is your father going to let me out of this bed?”  
“Not any time soon, I’d bet. If he had his way, he’d probably have you here for another week.”  
Legolas grimaced. “Is he going to have his way?”  
“Of course not, mellon nin. I know how much you love your trees. Once you are stronger, I will take you out to see them, though you must let me carry you.”  
“I can walk.”  
“Not until Ada says so.”  
“Fine, but then I want to go out now.”  
Aragorn took a quick appraisal of the elf. He seemed healthy enough – physically, at least – just weak.  
“Ok, but if Ada catches us, we’ll both be confined to our beds next.”  
He carefully lifted Legolas, who wound an arm around his neck. Aragorn knew the best way to sneak out of the healing halls, having used it many times himself. There was a tree just next to the southern window, and he easily swung himself and Legolas into the branches. Since becoming friends with the prince, he’d learned to be at home in a tree.  
Legolas sighed, leaning back and tilting his head up to the sun.   
“Legolas, what’s that?”  
The prince started guiltily and tried to hide his arm, but Aragorn snatched at it, pulling back the slightly bloodied sleeve to reveal a line of fresh, deep cuts.  
“No, mellon nin,” he groaned. “You promised me.”  
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself! No, listen, Estel, I swear. I just… it just hurts to much sometimes, ok? This is the only way he’ll leave me alone,” he finished in a whisper, glancing around as though expecting Haldir’s ghost to appear at any moment.  
Aragorn felt his heart breaking for his friend. The cuts were deep and would need attention, but the bleeding had at least stopped, so that could wait. He was more worried about what couldn’t be seen.   
“Please, mellon nin, there must be another way. I can’t stand to see you hurt yourself.”  
Legolas didn’t reply, blinking hard but not managing to stop the tears. “It hurts less than the alternative. I can’t take it, Estel. I just want it to end.”  
Aragorn felt helpless and useless. He pulled Legolas close, kissing the top of his head as the prince cried, his fingers clutching Aragorn’s shirt like a lifeline. “I can’t, I can’t,” he mumbled over and over again. “Please…”  
“Shh, it’s ok gwador, you can do it, I promise.” Legolas only cried harder and started struggling to get free, but Aragorn held tightly onto him. “You’re not getting rid of me, mellon nin. I’m with you to the end. I won’t leave you.”  
Legolas ceased struggling and seemed to melt in his arms. Aragorn scrambled to keep hold of him, because he was sure the elf wasn’t able to keep himself on the branch they currently occupied.   
He didn’t know how long they sat there for, but the sun moved steadily in the sky. Eventually, Legolas seemed to have cried himself out, because his sobs quieted.   
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I am being weak and foolish –”  
“Ssh, do not even say such a thing.” Aragorn pressed a finger to his friend’s lips. “You are neither weak nor foolish. I know full well what I am asking when I ask you to live for my sake. I’m sorry that I’m too weak to lose you, Legolas, and that you must suffer because of me.”  
Legolas shook his head. “Not your fault. All mine. My fault. I need –” He squirmed and dug in his pocket for something. A blade. The prince shook his sleeve down, but Aragorn had the knife out of his hand before he could bring it close to flesh.  
“No, mellon nin, I cannot allow that.”  
“Please, Estel, just a few cuts! Just so I can breathe again. It presses against my chest, I can’t breathe against it.”  
Aragorn felt a few tears slip out as he held Legolas close while the elf cried out for the knife. He’d seen Legolas injured and on the brink of death many times, but never had he witnessed his friend in pain like this.   
Legolas started gasping, clutching at his chest. “I can’t – can’t breathe – please, Estel – knife – help…”  
Aragorn swiftly carried him back to the healing ward and laid him down on his bed. “You can breathe, mellon nin, you can. It’s just a panic attack, I promise. Just try to breathe slowly for me.”  
Legolas’ frantic eyes sought his as the elf gasped for breath, but nothing Aragorn said could calm him down. He was starting to panic himself.   
“ADA!” he yelled over his shoulder. “ADA!”  
Elrond came sprinting into the healing halls. “What is it? What happened?”  
Aragorn tried to speak, but a sob burst from his lips and the words came out mangled. It didn’t matter. Elrond was a healer of unparalleled skill and he bent over Legolas, quickly deducing what was happening. In moments he had a herbal concoction ready and was forcing it down the prince’s throat. Seconds later, Legolas went limp, his breathing slow and heavy as he slipped into a deep sleep.   
Elrond quickly turned to his son, who was slumped in a chair by the bed, shaking almost as badly as Legolas had been a few minutes ago. The elf lord approached him carefully.   
“Estel, it’s alright. He’ll be ok.”  
“I don’t know what to do, Ada,” Aragorn whispered.   
“I know, ion nin. Try not to worry about it. We will find some way to help him.”  
Elrond opened his arms and Aragorn fell into them, suddenly a small child again in his father’s embrace. Elrond hushed and comforted the man as he cried and shook, knowing that pain such as this had to be waited out; there was no herb that would dull it.  
Finally, Aragorn slumped, exhausted, into a troubled sleep. Elrond carefully moved Legolas to the side and tucked Aragorn in bed next to him. Even in sleep, the two friends reached for each other, taking comfort in the other’s presence.   
Elrond waited a few minutes to be sure they would both remain asleep before hurrying off to find his other two sons. They would need to know what was happening. Aragorn and Legolas would both need all of their support in the coming weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

Legolas  
Legolas woke to find Estel’s head on his chest, and his own hands twined in the man’s hair. Despite everything, he smiled. He’d resisted, but his father had been right to send him to Imladris. All too soon, the memories came back, and the pain along with them.   
As though sensing something amiss, Estel jerked awake. Their eyes met, Estel checked the prince’s arms, smiling when he found no new cuts on them. The old ones had all been stitched and bandaged, no doubt when he was asleep. “How are you feeling?” Estel asked.  
Legolas didn’t know how to answer that question, so he asked one. “Your eyes look red. You’ve been crying. How are you feeling?”  
“Better than you, I’d wager. But if you don’t want to talk about it right now, you don’t have to.”  
Legolas sighed in relief, but his relief was short-lived.   
“There is something else I need you to promise me, though. If it all feels like too much, you need to promise you’ll come and talk to me before hurting yourself.”  
Legolas knew better than to make such a promise. “And if after talking to you I still feel the same? Will you let me and my blade go to do what needs to be done?”  
“No, of course not. I’d never let you hurt yourself.”  
“Then you see why I can’t make that promise, mellon nin.”  
Estel’s jaw took on a stubborn set. “Then I’m not leaving your side until you’re better.”  
That was going to be a problem. Legolas didn’t know how he’d survive the encroaching darkness without any form of release.  
It seemed Estel could read his mind, however, because his next words addressed his exact thoughts. “We’ll find other ways to make you feel better, ok? I’ll talk to Ada. Just don’t hurt yourself. I’d sooner you slashed at my arms than yours.”  
Legolas flinched. “I’d never hurt you.”  
“So you think my heart is more resilient than my arms? It hurts me worse than any physical wound, watching you in pain.”  
Legolas hated to be reminded of how he was hurting his friend. Could he do nothing right? It would have been so much easier if he had been allowed to die. The thought went round and round in his head and it wouldn’t stop.   
He was vaguely aware of Estel shaking him. “Legolas! Hey, come on, breathe slowly. That’s right, nice and slow.”  
Legolas hadn’t even been aware that he was gasping for air. Estel’s voice was calm and slow, and it steadied him. He did his best to match his breaths to the man’s, until his heart finally stopped racing.   
He tried to hold the words back, but they burst past his lips. “I want to die, Estel. I want it so badly.”  
Estel pulled him into a tight hug. “I know, mellon nin.” His hands rubbed soothing circles in the elf’s back. He didn’t say anything else, just held him, and Legolas drew strength from that.   
Finally, Estel pulled back, glancing at the sky. “It’s nearly noon. Ada will be bringing lunch in soon, but we have time to go and sit in the tree for a bit, if you’d like.”  
Legolas flinched. In truth, he hadn’t been able to eat since Haldir’s death, but telling Estel that was a bad idea. He’d have to find some way to get out of it. “Yes, maybe being in the trees would help.”  
“Can you walk? Ada stitched up your arms, but you still lost a lot of blood.”  
“I can walk. Elvish endurance, remember? We are not weak like you mere mortals.”  
Estel rolled his eyes, but let it pass.   
Legolas only just gotten up when a wave of dizziness hit him. He felt himself falling and reached out for something to grab on. He managed to snag the bed cover, but it simply fell with him. He would have hit the floor had Estel not caught him.  
“Legolas! What’s wrong? Ada said you would be fine with some rest!”  
Legolas felt himself being put back on the bed and waited patiently for the world to stop spinning. “I’m fine,” he muttered.   
“Not yet,” said a firm voice. Elrond entered, carrying a tray. “You’ve lost a lot of blood and you need to regain your strength.”  
Panic seized him as Legolas tried to think. He’d refused food up until now on the excuse that he felt sick, but that wasn’t going to fly with Elrond any longer, not after he’d just collapsed.   
“Thank you, hir nin.” He pushed himself up into a seated position and took the tray gracefully, praying the elf lord would leave.  
Instead, Elrond sat down in a chair next to the bed and levelled a stern gaze at the tray.  
Legolas reluctantly picked up a fluffy roll and raised it to his mouth. Images of Haldir’s dead body flashed before his eyes. How could he eat, when his friend’s body was currently being consumed by worms?  
“Legolas.” Elrond raised The Eyebrow in warning when he saw the roll was placed back on the tray.   
“I’m not hungry right now.” It was the truth. He hadn’t been hungry since Haldir’s death.   
“Too bad.” Estel snatched up the roll. “Do you want to eat, or do you need me to feed you?”  
Oh Valar. He’d had this argument with Estel before, when he’d been injured and too sick to eat, or at least he’d thought. The man could be bullheaded when he wanted to, and he wasn’t above forcing Legolas to eat if he thought it was required for his health.  
“I can do it myself,” Legolas snapped, taking the roll and breaking off a small piece. He lifted it to his mouth, but he couldn’t quite get it past his lips. He only realized he was shaking when the piece of roll dropped down into his lap.   
Estel was there at once, abandoning the bedside chair and slipping into bed next to Legolas, his warmth and weight comforting. “What is it, mellon nin? Speak to me.”  
Elrond had tactfully walked to the other end of the hall, and Legolas tucked his head against Estel’s chest to avoid looking at him as he spoke. “I can’t eat. Not when he can’t. Just the thought makes me sick. I’ve tried, Estel, I swear I have, but I can’t, not since he died.”  
“WHAT? You’re telling me you haven’t eaten since then? Mellon nin, that was three weeks ago! How are you still on your feet?”  
“I’m not,” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to the bed.   
“Right, that’s it, you are eating this roll and you are eating it right now. I’ll not have you collapsing from starvation.”  
Estel gave him a menacing glare and pushed the bread close to the prince’s face. “Open up.”  
The air was suddenly thin as Legolas tried to twist away. He brought a hand to his throat, which felt like it was closing up.   
Elrond was suddenly there, pulling Estel away. “Perhaps this is not the best way to deal with this, ion nin. Legolas, listen to me. You need to breathe slowly, remember? Estel, take that food away.”  
The tray disappeared, and Legolas slowly regained control of his breathing. Elrond’s soft, concerned eyes peered into his. “Legolas, listen to me,” he said gently. “I can’t let you starve to death. You’re going to have to eat something, even if it’s just a little. I’ll have a broth made for you, alright? Something nice and thin. It’ll be easy to get down.”  
The thought made him want to retch, but Legolas knew it was the best deal he was going to get. “I won’t keep it down,” he warned.   
“I will give you some herbs for nausea before you eat. You’ll be fine.”  
Legolas seriously doubted that, but he nodded anyway. Estel came back, his mouth set in an unhappy line, but he forced a smile when he looked at the prince.   
“Once you’ve eaten, and I’m sure you won’t collapse, I’ll take you outside,” he bargained. “I’ll bring Elladan and Elohir, and you can watch the three of us race up the trees.”  
Legolas rolled his eyes. Ever since he’d known Estel, the man had aspired to climbing faster than an elf. He was remarkably good for a human, and he even sometimes managed it, but those times invariably led to him falling in his haste.   
Elrond muttered something about his sons giving him gray hairs as he passed. Legolas felt a smile tugging at his lips.   
A few minutes later, Elrond returned with the broth. The sight of it turned Legolas’ stomach, but one look at Estel told him that there was no way to avoid it. Perhaps they would take pity on him when the broth was splattered all over the floor.  
“Here, drink this first.” Elrond handed him a cup of tea that presumably had herbs for nausea in it. Legolas downed it quickly, regretting his haste at once, because he had nothing but the broth before him.   
He took the spoon and raised it to his lips, but found that his hand was shaking too badly to keep hold. The spoon dropped to his lap.   
“Here.” Estel gently wiped the mess up and scooped another spoon. “Open up.”  
“Please, Estel.”  
“No, Legolas. You are going to eat.”  
Squeezing his eyes shut, Legolas allowed the human to feed him the spoon of broth. He swallowed and immediately started choking as his stomach roiled. Images of Haldir’s dead eyes had bile rising in his throat.  
Elrond’s hands were suddenly on him, one on his chest and the other on his back. The elf lord was murmuring words Legolas couldn’t make out. To his amazement, after a few moments, his nausea faded, and his stomach stopped protesting.   
“It is not a physical symptom, but something brought on by your own mind, probably from misplaced guilt.” Elrond gave him a kind smile that didn’t completely hide his worry. “For now, I will help you eat, until you are able to manage it on your own.”  
Legolas slumped back in defeat, wishing that he had been allowed to die when he’d had the chance.


	4. Chapter 4

Aragorn  
Aragorn felt as though his heart was breaking for his friend, his brother in all but blood. They got the broth into Legolas, but the elf no longer seemed interested in getting out of bed, which in itself was concerning. Aragorn had never seen his friend looking so defeated.  
Legolas rolled over onto his side and pulled the blanket up to his chin. His breathing slowed and his eyes glazed over as he fell into a light sleep.   
Aragorn wanted to stay by his side, but he felt wretched watching his friend suffer like this and was in desperate need of reassurance himself. He turned to his father, who understood at once and led Aragorn a little distance away so that they soft words wouldn’t wake the prince.  
“Ada, I don’t know what to do. How do we help him?”   
At the desperation in his son’s voice, Elrond pulled him into a tight hug. Aragorn clung to him like he had when he was younger and had just had a nightmare. “You are doing everything you can, ion nin. This is a journey that Legolas must undergo himself if he is to survive. All we can do is support him.”  
“He can’t even eat. He still blames himself for Haldir’s death. How can we convince him otherwise when he refuses to listen to us?”  
“We cannot. It is something he will have to come to believe himself, and forgive himself for.”   
Aragorn was ashamed to feel tears pricking at his eyes. Elrond looked at his son with kindness and understanding. “Do not despair, ion nin. Legolas is strong. He can yet make it through this.”  
Aragorn nodded into his father’s shoulder, taking deep breaths, trying to get his emotions under control. Legolas needed him to be strong, not to be an emotional wreck. “I should go sit with him. He shouldn’t be left alone.”  
“Indeed. When you get tired, call for me or your brothers and we will watch over him. You need your sleep too, Estel. Legolas will need you more than any of the rest of us in the coming weeks, and it won’t do to have you collapsing from exhaustion.”  
Aragorn knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he nodded anyway. Elrond would probably force some sleeping potion on him before long. For now, he hurried to sit by Legolas’ side. He must have been more drained than he’d realized, because before long, he found his head sinking forward to rest on the prince’s bed.   
He woke when Legolas did. The prince froze when he realized Aragorn was awake, and the man realized he had caught his friend in the act of trying to sneak away. “Legolas?”  
Legolas squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I just need a few minutes alone, Estel. Please.”  
His suspicion was instantly aroused, and not without good reason. “Why? What will you do if I leave you?”  
Legolas didn’t speak, but his eyes answered for him when they flicked to the cupboard where Elrond kept surgical instruments used for cutting through flesh.   
“No, mellon nin, I’m not leaving you alone so you can hurt yourself.”  
“Please.” Legolas’ eyes brimmed with unwilling tears. “Just a few cuts, Estel. I can’t… I need it.”  
“Not a chance.” Fearing the prince would lunge for the cupboard, Aragorn pulled him fully onto bed, holding the prince against his chest.   
Legolas struggled feebly, but he was too weak to do much. “You take everything, Estel!” His voice was suddenly filled with anger. “You tell me I may not die, and then take the one thing that gives me some relief! Why are you so intent on my suffering?” The rest of his words were lost as violent sobs overtook his body.  
Aragorn held his friend tightly as the elf cried, trying to stop his own tears. “It’s ok, mellon nin, I’m here, you’re not alone. You’ll get through this, I promise.”  
A slightly hysterical laugh made its way through the tears. “That’s hardly reassuring. If you want to make me feel better, tell me that I’m going to die.”  
Aragorn made no response but to squeeze his friend tighter. He knew this couldn’t go on. He’d promised Legolas he would find some other way to make him feel better. Once the elf had drifted again into an exhausted sleep, Aragorn carefully disentangled himself and got out of the bed. He didn’t need to go far before he ran into his brothers.  
“Elladan, Elohir, watch Legolas for a while, would you? He’s asleep, but he may wake up at any moment. I need to talk to Ada.”  
“Of course.” They gave him sympathetic looks. “He will be safe with us.”  
“I know.” He tried to smile, but feared it came out more like a grimace. Knowing where his father would be, Aragorn hurried to Elrond’s study.   
Elrond seemed to have been expecting him. “Estel, come in. How are you feeling?”  
“Fine,” he lied. “I need to talk to you about Legolas. He says that only cutting makes him feel any better, but I can’t watch him hurt himself. I promised him I’d find another way. There is another way, right? You can mix him up a potion or something?”  
Elrond sighed. “I can and will try out a few different potions on him, but these kinds of maladies aren’t so easily cured. The best I can recommend is think of things that have always made Legolas happy, and see if any of those can distract him from his misery.”  
It was hardly the answer he wanted; he just hoped it would be enough. Elrond must have read some of his fears off his face, because he offered a few more words of reassurance. “It might take time to find out what works, but we’ll figure out a solution for Legolas eventually. Right now, we just need to support him as best we can until that time comes.”  
Aragorn took a deep breath. Elrond was right. They were doing everything they could for Legolas. “Thanks, Ada. I’d best get back. Will you be along with those potions?”  
Elrond gestured at the papers spread out over his desk. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past few days? I’m researching different types of potions tried in these circumstances, trying to figure out which ones might work best on Legolas. I’m also writing to Thranduil, telling him to come to Imladris. Legolas needs his father’s support through this, and I think it is better he stay here than go back to Greenwood.”  
“I agree.” As much as Legolas loved his home, it had never been the place of peace and tranquility that Imladris was.   
“Ada… is Legolas going to be ok?”  
Elrond gave him a sympathetic smile. “I will not stop fighting for him until it is so. You know that the twins feel the same, and I know you would never give up on him.” At his father’s gentle smile, Aragorn felt a small measure of relief, and he left the study feeling just a little more hopeful than he had before.


	5. Chapter 5

Legolas  
When he woke again, it was to a hand gently shaking his shoulder. Legolas blinked to find Estel’s face inches from his own. They were pressed close together in the small bed, and the comfort of his brother’s warm arms around him was enough to make Legolas want to drift back into sleep.  
“Oh no you don’t. Come on, gwador, it’s time to wake up. You need to eat something.”  
Now he really wanted to go back to sleep. Legolas squeezed his eyes shut and tucked his head into Estel’s chest, hoping the human would have mercy and leave him alone. Estel’s sympathetic hand stroked the suddenly tense muscles of his back.  
“Come, Legolas, the sooner this is started, the sooner it is over.” At Elrond’s voice, Legolas gave a groan of defeat. When the elf lord spoke in his healer voice, he was not to be denied; Legolas knew this from hard experience. “I’ll be sick,” he muttered.  
“No, you won’t, that’s why I’m here to help you.”  
The thought of eating when Haldir couldn’t stoked the fires of guilt in his chest. Estel gripped his shoulders and pulled Legolas into a sitting position. He made to get off the bed to create more room, but the prince snatched his wrist. “No, stay.”  
It was easier not to panic with his friend so near, and Estel didn’t protest. He took the bowl of broth from Elrond and lifted a spoon of the foul stuff. “Open up.”  
“I can feed myself.” Legolas reached for the spoon and Estel relinquished it, only to snatch it a few moments later when the prince’s hand shook so badly that the broth spilled onto his lap. Mortified, Legolas tried to clean it up, but Elrond was already there with a cloth, whisking the mess away.  
Grimacing, Legolas opened his mouth for the food. This time, the nausea had only a moment to take hold before Elrond’s hands were on his chest and back as they had been before, and Legolas’ stomach ceased trying to uproot itself.  
He ate the entire bowl of broth with only minimal complaints, mainly because he couldn’t summon the energy to fight against it. Despair was once more swamping him. Legolas felt like he was lying in his own grave, being covered with layers and layers of dirt, each one blocking out more sunlight and making escape seem even less likely.  
After the broth, Elrond forced a potion down his throat before leaving the two of them alone. Legolas lay back, planning to go to sleep, but Estel, it seemed, had other plans.  
“You’ve slept enough. It’s time for our activity.”  
“What?” Legolas frowned at the human, wondering if he was still suffering the effects of going without food for so long.  
Estel produced a list, which he proudly handed over. Legolas read it with increasing bemusement. 

To be done in a day  
1\. Eat x3  
2\. Bathe  
3\. Sleep (8 hours)  
4\. Take Elrond’s medicine  
5\. Activity x2  
6\. Talk  
7\. Rest / nap

“I don’t get it. What is this?”  
“It’s your schedule, until you get better. Ada’s medicines will help you some, but we need to find other ways to get you feeling better, too. Talking about how you’re doing will help, so that needs to happen every day. Rest or nap time are compulsory for now, since you’re still weak from hunger and blood loss. Eating and bathing are obvious requirements, and as for activities, we’ll go through things you like and see which ones you find the most helpful.”  
Just looking at the list was making him tired. “I don’t know, Estel. I’d really just rather sleep…”  
“Nope.” The infuriating human produced another list. 

Possible activities  
1\. Archery practice  
2\. Sparring  
3\. Walk / ride through the forest  
4\. Swim in the lake  
5\. Hunting  
6\. Make arrows / sharpen weapons for Imladris guard  
7\. Fishing  
8\. Flowers 

“The first five are things you like, and the last three are ideas for if you’re not feeling up to much.”  
“Flowers? What does that mean?”  
“The gardeners keep multiple flower beds around Ada’s garden. Remember when we were younger, and Ada would send us to help the gardeners when we got caught in some act of mischief?”  
“I remember. We’d usually be pulling weeds or hauling compost, though.”  
“Well, I thought tending to the flowers would be more enjoyable. It doesn’t take much energy. I wouldn’t put it past them to start blooming the moment you walked by.”  
Legolas’ lips twitched in an almost-smile. “You really think this will work? I think… I think I may be broken beyond repair.” This last confession came out in a whisper, but Estel was close enough to hear regardless.  
“You’re not,” the human promised. “We’ll get you through this. I know you don’t want to live right now, but I promise you, you will when we’re through with you. If this doesn’t work, we’ll keep trying until something works.”  
Legolas didn’t believe it, but Estel truly lived up to his namesake: hope was shining in his eyes, and he couldn’t bring himself to crush it.  
“Until Ada says otherwise, you will be accompanied at all times, mostly by me, but if I’m not around, by Ada, the twins or Glorfindel.”  
Legolas grimaced, but he knew there would be no negotiation on this point, not after everything he’d done recently. “I don’t suppose I have much choice in this, do I?”  
Estel shoved the first list under his nose again. “You may choose any item from this list.”  
The activities sounded too exhausting to contemplate, so Legolas looked at the rest of the list without enthusiasm. “Maybe I’ll take a nap,” he tried.  
“Nope, you just woke up from your nap. Pick again.”  
“Fine, talk, then.” He’d always found it easy to talk to Estel, but it seemed that this time, Estel had no intention of making things easy for him.  
“What do you want to talk about?”  
“Um… how has hunting been recently? Caught any more of those white deer?”  
Estel laughed softly. “That’s not what this step means, mellon nin. It means talking about what’s bothering you.”  
Ah Valar. Even swimming in the lake may be better than this. Legolas tried to avert his eyes, but Estel was too close to do this effectively, and he found himself caught in his friend’s gaze. “I don’t want to talk,” he muttered.  
“Ok.” Estel shrugged easily. “We don’t have to talk.”  
“I thought I had to talk to cross this item off the list?”  
“You can talk to me, or you can sit quietly and think. Either is acceptable.”  
Legolas didn’t know where this hairbrained scheme came from, but he suspected Elrond. Cursing the elf lord quietly, he resolved to stay silent as long as it took for Estel to be satisfied. Several times, he tried to engage Estel in trivial conversation, which the human easily rebuffed, and when Legolas found himself drifting off, he was gently shaken back to awareness.  
He was left with nothing to do but dwell on his misery. As it so often did, the image of Haldir’s corpse flashed before his eyes. No matter how he tried to banish it, the hated, shameful picture wouldn’t fade.  
“Legolas? Mellon nin, what are you thinking?”  
He only realized he was shaking when he felt Estel’s arms around him, stilling the worst of his shivers. “Nothing.” Legolas swiped fiercely at his tears, feeling weak for being such a mess. His nails scraped against the soft flesh under his eye, leaving a deep scratch.  
At once, Estel captured his wrists. “Don’t be ashamed to cry, Legolas. Just let it all out. Talk to me.”  
Figuring he couldn’t possibly feel any worse, Legolas gave up holding back the words that burned in his throat. “I see him all the time. When I close my eyes, and when they’re open. When I’m asleep, and when I’m awake. I feel like I’m suffocating. I feel like I died with him. I wish I had. I should have.”  
He was relieved when Estel didn’t immediately start arguing otherwise. The human simply held him and listened.  
Legolas hadn’t intended to say anything beyond that, but he found the words spilling out, choked by sobs so much that he wondered if the human could even understand him. “It hurts so much, Estel. I was so stupid. If only I hadn’t sent the guards away. If only Haldir had never come. He came for me, to help me. I should never have been born. If I could go back in time and correct the mistake, I would.”  
Every shameful, despairing, hopeless thought he’d had since Haldir’s death was blurted out in the tide of words that Legolas couldn’t seem to stop. Estel took to stroking his hair and wiping his tears, since he would no longer let Legolas’ hands near his own face.  
When he finally talked himself into silence, Legolas braced himself for Estel’s speech, for the human’s assertions that it hadn’t been his fault.  
Estel surprised him. “I love you, gwador. My life is so much better for having you in it. My world would be a dark, dreary place without you.”  
Legolas found himself unsure how to respond. Unlike assurances of his innocence, this was an argument that Legolas could not dismiss or will away, for nothing he said would change Estel’s feelings, just as nothing Estel said would change his feelings. As much as he disagreed with his friend’s estimation, he had no choice but to accept it, for Estel offered him no other. “You place too much value on me. I’m not worth it. I’m just going to get you killed.”  
Estel chuckled. “With the number of times you’ve saved my life? I somehow doubt that.”  
It was true. He and Estel had saved each other’s lives on multiple occasions.  
“You’re not going try to make me say it wasn’t my fault?”  
“No, mellon nin, I’m not. You know my opinions on this – that you are guiltless. But I can’t force that opinion on you any more than you can forcibly take away the regard I hold for you. I can only hope that you’ll come to agree with me in time.”  
Legolas privately thought that it would never happen, but he didn’t say so, not wanting to ruin Estel’s resolution not to try to force him into accepting his innocence.  
After a few minutes of silence Estel spoke again. “Do you remember how you got the scar on your leg?”  
“I have many scars on my legs, mellon nin.” Legolas suspected he knew which one Estel was talking about, but he didn’t like to bring it up, worrying about upsetting his friend.  
“The one I made when I was messing around with a spear. Remember, how I was trying to sharpen it with one hand while tickling you with the other? It slipped and stabbed you. It took sixteen stitches for Ada to close it. I felt horrible about it.”  
“I know, but it was an accident. Of course I forgave you.”  
“You did. It took me a lot longer to forgive myself. Even though I knew I was at fault, I eventually realized that berating myself over it wasn’t going to help anything.”  
Legolas saw what the human was trying to say. Even if he didn’t accept that Haldir’s death wasn’t his fault, he could still forgive himself for his mistake. “How did you do it?” he asked quietly.  
“I thought about what you would want. Not that it was very difficult, because you made what you wanted quite clear.”  
Legolas remembered. He had demanded quite forcefully that Estel let it go and stop blaming himself over it.  
“You loved me and didn’t want me to suffer over it, but to move on with my life.”  
Though Estel didn’t say so, Legolas knew that had Haldir been alive, he would have said the same thing. That didn’t make it any easier to do, nor was he yet sure he even deserved to do it. Still, it seemed more feasible than convincing himself he hadn’t been at fault.  
Legolas was even more drained by the talk than he would have been by hunting down half the living things around Imladris, and Estel seemed to take pity on him, allowing the elf to drift off, his arms wrapped tightly around the human’s waist. 

Aragorn  
Aragorn was exhausted. He’d barely left Legolas’ side in the past week. Thanks to Elrond’s help, Legolas was putting on some weight again, though he still protested to the three daily meals he was forced into.  
The prince was somewhat improved, though there were still times when he begged for death in abject misery. Aragorn had started sleeping lightly, awakening from even a slight movement, lest he catch his friend sneaking off to try to find a knife, which he had done more than once. At least, when Aragorn was holding him, Legolas didn’t seem to suffer from nightmares.  
For days, Elrond had been urging his son to take some time for himself and get some rest. Aragorn consistently refused, until finally Elrond put his foot down.  
“You are to get some rest, Estel. Elladan and Elohir will stay with Legolas. You are going to your rooms, you are going to eat and bathe, as you keep telling Legolas to do, and then you are going to take a potion that will put you into a well-needed deep sleep.”  
“No, Ada, I can’t. Legolas needs me.” They were outside the healing halls, keeping their voices low so that a dozing Legolas wouldn’t hear them.  
“If something urgent comes up that can only be dealt with by you, we will call you, but Legolas is stable for now. Bed.”  
Elrond was giving him The Eyebrow, and Aragorn knew better than to try to defy it, but he was terrified that what small progress he’d made with Legolas would be erased if he left now.  
“Glorfindel,” Elrond called softly. The balrog slayer either had spectacular hearing, even for an elf, or he had some sixth sense that told him when Elrond needed him. Aragorn groaned. He stood no chance against Glorfindel; this must have been proven many times before.  
“Well, Estel, are you going to come quietly?” Glorfindel folded his arms, waiting. Knowing this was a fight he would lose, Aragorn settled for glaring at the two elder elves. “I’ll come quietly,” he muttered.  
He ate and bathed with ill grace while Glorfindel looked on with amusement. Finally, the elf lord held up a cup that Aragorn could immediately identify from the smell as one of Elrond’s teas.  
“How long will this put me to sleep for?” he asked resignedly.  
“As long as you need. You’ve been wearing yourself out, caring for Legolas without pause. Now, are you going to drink it peacefully, or do I need to get your Ada?”  
“I’ll drink it.” Aragorn shot a glare across the room as he downed the tea in one gulp. Almost immediately, he could feel sleepiness taking him. There was no point in fighting it. Should he manage to remain awake, Glorfindel would simply return with a stronger tea that would likely knock him out for longer.  
He tried to tell himself not to worry. Elladan and Elohir wouldn’t let anything happen to Legolas. They’d been friends with him before Aragorn was even born. Still, neither of them shared the bond that the prince and human had. They didn’t know Legolas’ every expression, they didn’t know the nuances in his voice that gave telltale signs when he was upset.  
Elrond had done his job well. Despite his worries, the sleep potion worked quickly, seeming to glue his unwilling eyelids shut. Sighing, Aragorn gave in to sleep.  
He was woken by hands shaking him. Blinking dazedly, Aragorn tried to get his bearings. It had been just before noon when he’d fallen asleep, but now it looked a couple of hours past dawn. Had he really slept for almost a full day?  
These concerns immediately fled his mind when he saw Elladan’s tearstained face above him. Elladan only spoke one word. “Legolas.”  
Aragorn was vaguely aware of leaping from the bed and sprinting to the healing halls. He had no shirt on and his hair was a mess, but he didn’t care. He burst in on the scene to find Elrond calmly bandaging Legolas’ arms, while Elohir apologized over and over again.  
“I just looked away for a minute, I swear, Ada! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think he could act that fast…”  
Legolas was pale and looked barely conscious. There was blood everywhere.  
“What happened?” Aragorn demanded, shoving Elohir aside to get to the prince.  
“I don’t know!” Elohir wailed. “I don’t even know where he got the knife from.”  
Aragorn spared a glance for the bloodied knife, which was laid on a table far back from the bed. “That’s a utility knife used to cut bandages. Those aren’t supposed to be lying around, they’re supposed to be in the locked cupboard.”  
The blood drained from Elohir’s face. “One of the elflings came in with a small wound that needed to be bandaged. The healer on duty must have used the knife and forgotten to put it back. I didn’t think…”  
Aragorn bit back an angry retort, trying to calm himself. “It’s not your fault, Elohir. I should have told you to watch any sharp object carefully.”  
“Ada told me that. I have no excuse.”  
The human clasped his brother’s arm in sympathy as he moved closer to Legolas. “How is he, Ada?”  
“He’ll be fine, physically, at least. The wounds look worse than they are.”  
Legolas’ eyes fluttered. “Estel.”  
“I’m here, mellon nin.”  
“Didn’t mean to,” he slurred. “Just wanted to cut… went too deep by accident…”  
“It’s ok, gwador, Ada is here, he’ll fix you up.”  
Too late, Aragorn remembered that those words weren’t comforting to the elf, who still wished for death. Before he could think of some better comfort, a shocked voice at the doorway had them all turning around.  
“Legolas?” Thranduil ran forward, pushing past the twins who readily moved aside from him. “What happened to you?”  
What color Legolas had left fled as he blinked at his father. “Ada? What are you doing here?”  
It was the worst possible moment for Thranduil to arrive, but there was nothing to be done about it. Elrond reacted first. “Elladan, take over here with the stitches. Thranduil, come, we need to talk. Elohir, come, help me.”  
Elohir dragged his eyes away from Legolas and took Thranduil’s left arm while Elrond held his right. the two of them marched a protesting Thranduil out of the healing ward. The king’s struggles to get back to his son only stopped when Elrond told him that Elladan needed peace and quiet to do his work in helping Legolas.  
Aragorn knew that Elrond was doing the kindest thing he could do by removing Legolas’ father until his son could be somewhat cleaned up. As it was, Thranduil would never be able to remove the image of what he’d seen from his mind; none of them would. They had all seen Legolas injured multiple times, but something about knowing the injury came from his own hand made it all the more horrifying.  
Legolas tried to get up. “What is Ada doing here? Is there trouble at home?”  
“No, there’s no trouble,” Aragorn soothed. “My Ada wrote to him. He came to be with you.”  
The prince groaned and fell back onto the bed. Aragorn knew him well enough to know what he was thinking without asking. “Don’t you go feeling bad about this. Thranduil would have left capable people in charge. You’re his son and he loves you. He wants to be here.”  
“I should have gone home…”  
“You speak as if my Ada would let you out of his sight.”  
Instead of the smile he’d hoped for, Legolas just shook his head wearily.  
“I’m sorry, mellon nin. I never should have left you.”  
The prince shook his head more vehemently. “You’re going to make yourself sick caring for me. I never meant to be such a burden. You should just let me go. I can make my own way home.”  
Aragorn didn’t bother answer to such a ridiculous statement. None of them would let Legolas leave in such a state and the prince knew it.  
“Come, let’s get this blood cleaned up. Your Ada will be in soon to see you.”  
Legolas flinched. “What am I going to tell him?”  
“You probably won’t need to tell him anything. Elrond is no doubt updating him right now.”  
“Does this mean I get out of my schedule today?”  
“Maybe. I’ll see what Ada says. Thranduil may want to spend the day with us.” He said ‘us’ because there was no force in Middle Earth that would remove him from Legolas again. The next time Elrond set Glorfindel on him, the barlog slayer was going to find that Aragorn wouldn’t be pulled from Legolas’ side again, not while he was still breathing.  
They had just managed to clean up the blood when a harried-looking Thranduil was followed by Elrond into the healing halls.  
Thranduil didn’t comment on Aragorn’s placement in bed with Legolas. He’d seen the affection between the two friends many times before and could see even now that Legolas clutched Aragorn’s leg as though it was a lifeline.  
“Legolas, ion nin! Come to Ada.” Thranduil held out his arms and Legolas gratefully fell into the embrace. Aragorn slipped off the bed and into a chair right next to it. That was the furthest he was prepared to go, father and son reunion or not.


	6. Chapter 6

Legolas  
Legolas was an elfling again, held in his Ada’s arms, and he soaked up the comfort. He only realized he was crying – again – when Thranduil started frantically wiping his tears. “Speak to me, ion nin.”  
“I’m so sorry, Ada,” Legolas managed to choke out. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean it…”  
“Hush, it was not your fault. No one blames you.”  
Legolas simply shook his head. He didn’t have the breath to argue. In fact, the air in the room seemed to be disappearing at an alarming rate. He gasped, trying to pull air into his lungs, but it evaded him. His fingers clutched at his Ada’s arms in panic.  
“What is it? Where does it hurt?” his Ada demanded. Legolas couldn’t get the breath to reply.  
The next thing he knew, he was being pried from Thranduil’s arms into Estel’s. In his distress, Legolas unknowingly flailed and accidentally slapped Estel across the head, but the human pinned his arms with quick, experienced movements.  
“Breathe slowly, mellon nin,” Estel encouraged. “Remember? Just take it slow.” The human reached over slightly to the bottle that was now always kept by the bed and dripped some of the oil onto the tips of his fingers.   
“You’re ok, just relax,” he soothed, rubbing some of the oil onto the skin just under Legolas’ nose. The now-familiar smell of the remedy Elrond had created calmed him and helped to open up his airways. Still gasping like a fish out of water, Legolas fell back against Estel’s chest, black spots appearing in his vision.   
“Slow, mellon nin, remember. Come, count with me. Breathe in for one, two, three, four. Out for one, two, three, four, five, six. Hold for one, two, three. Now breathe in again for one…”  
Legolas lost himself in the repetition as he tried to follow the instructions. At first, he did so only patchily, but as Estel rubbed more of the oil on his cheeks, his chin, and slowly started massaging it into his temples, the prince finally managed to gain control.   
When it had passed, he slumped back in exhaustion, his racing heart slowly coming under control. Some silent communication seemed to be passing between the king and the human. Legolas forced his eyes open, only to meet the worried gaze of his Ada.   
He noted with some relief that his father showed no hint of resentment that it was the his human friend to whom Legolas turned for comfort.   
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean –”  
“Do not apologize to me for this, ion nin, never for this. I’m just glad you have Estel and Elrond to help you. I may not be a healer, but I am here for you too, Legolas. Whatever you need.”  
Legolas nodded weakly, holding out a hand. His Ada clasped it tightly.   
“Just let him rest for now,” Estel said quietly. “He’s always tired after an attack like this.”  
Legolas didn’t know why he was so tired all the time. He could hardly complain of starvation anymore, nor of blood loss before today. Elrond assured him that as his grief faded, so too would the exhaustion, but Legolas wasn’t so sure.   
“Do I still have to do my activities today?” He didn’t care that he sounded whiny. Getting out of bed was too intimidating to contemplate right now.   
“Not today, mellon nin. There is no getting out of it tomorrow, though. I will add Thranduil to the list.”  
The list of activities had names now. One of the two daily activities was done with Estel, while another had to be done with the twins, Elrond or Glorfindel, though Estel could also be present for those. Elrond hadn’t wanted his recover to depend entirely on Estel, and he’d been right. The poor man was already neglecting his own needs to care for Legolas, which only made the weight of guilt he felt heavier.   
So far, they had done a lot of fishing and tending to flowers, but Legolas was hoping for a day when he had the energy to do some archery practice, at least. As it was, he’d had to be carried back from fishing several times, even though all they did was sit in the boat with the fishing lines.  
The fact that he was being allowed to skip the schedule told Legolas a lot about how pitiful he must look. Some days were easier than others, and he felt he could get up and face the world. Other times, he wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and hope to die. More than once, Estel had literally dragged him from his bed, insistent on sticking to Elrond’s cursed treatment plan.   
“Can… can I talk to my Ada alone?”  
Estel’s response was instant and firm. “No. Not until we’ve briefed him on everything.”  
Legolas knew what Estel was talking about. Elrond had already told Ada the situation, but Estel would no doubt give an exhaustive list of the things Thranduil had to watch for, sharp objects being only one of them.   
“If my son wants to talk to me, then he can.” Thranduil sat up straighter, his eyes flashing dangerously.   
Fortunately, Elrond chose that moment to enter. “Of course, Thranduil, but if you see the state of his arms, you’ll understand why we’re reluctant to let him be alone with anyone who hasn’t been briefed thoroughly in his care.”  
The words deflated the king’s anger, but they did little for Legolas. He felt like he was going mad, trapped under the scrutiny of others, never allowed a moment alone. Not that he blamed them. If it were Estel, he’d act the same way.   
“Legolas? It is past time for your breakfast, but if you want to rest for a bit more, I can come back in an hour.”  
Elrond could no doubt smell the oil Estel had used to help calm him, and was being extra gentle.   
“No, I want to try. I hate that you have to come down here every time I need to eat.”  
Legolas had progressed to solid foods, but he had yet to try to eat without Elrond there to quell his nausea.   
The elf lord gave him a worried look. “It doesn’t have to be today. We can do things as usual today and try this tomorrow.”  
“No.” Legolas didn’t want his father seeing him act weaker and more pathetic than he already had. Estel pursed his lips but didn’t comment. Legolas did his best to hide his fear as he accepted a plate of meat, fruit and bread.   
Not wanting to delay it any longer than he had to, Legolas shoved the bread into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly. As he’d expected, his stomach rebelled violently. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push it away. He had to keep this down. He was not vomiting his breakfast up in front of his father.  
Elrond’s hands hovered in his line of vision, but the prince waved them away, determined. His determination, it seemed, was no match for his stomach’s will to empty itself. Estel held his hair back as Legolas heaved.   
Elrond wiped the mess away without a fuss, and Legolas could feel his face going bright red. His eyes hesitantly met his Ada’s. He’d always worked hard to make his father proud, to be just as strong and competent as the elder he so admired. Though Thranduil had never given him reason to doubt his Ada’s affections, Legolas’ guilt over Haldir’s death was causing him to doubt not only himself, but the people around him. He was sure that they soon had to see what a failure he was; some prince, who couldn’t even protect his friend.   
Thranduil reached forward and clasped his son’s hands. “It’s alright, ion nin. Let Lord Elrond help you. You can try this again another day. For now, you need to eat. You are still far too skinny.”  
Legolas nodded, this time accepting Elrond’s hands on him as he finished his lunch. As much as he protested that Thranduil should return to Greenwood, Legolas was glad his Ada was here. Resting easily knowing he had the rest of the day off, he relaxed into Estel’s arms and drifted off.   
The days passed, one much the same as the next, varying only in whether they would be dully miserable or brutally difficult. While Estel and the others kept a sharp watch on Legolas’ mental state, the prince didn’t have the energy to track the slow changes in himself, which was why he surprised himself, one sunny day out riding with Estel and the twins.   
They were just heading into the woods, Elladan and Elohir making bets as to who could hold their breath for longer in the lake. A harried Erestor passed them, no doubt off to report this, muttering something about “thrice cursed sons of Elrond”.   
Elladan simply laughed it off. “Well, at least should one of us drown, Ada will arrive in time to revive us.”  
Legolas smiled and even chuckled softly. He froze, suddenly realizing that he’d smiled. He’d laughed. When was the last time he’d smiled or laughed, genuinely, not just to assure someone of his health? He couldn’t remember. He smiled again, thinking of the lecture the twins would get if Elrond had to revive one of them. It felt good to smile sincerely, if a bit foreign.  
He looked back on the past two months, and seeing events from this end of the long, hard road, he could see how much better he was now, even if he was nowhere fully recovered. There were more days when he didn’t want to die, didn’t want to cut. The panic attacks were slowly decreasing in frequency.   
“You ok?” Estel moved his horse closer and reached squeezed the prince’s leg, concern etched on his face. Legolas gave him a wide, genuine smile.   
“I’m fine. Or at least, I will be. I think I will be.” For the first time since Haldir’s death, Legolas meant it.


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue  
Nine months later

Legolas  
Estel’s hand on his leg brought Legolas back to reality. The human’s eyes were soft and filled with compassion. “Mellon nin?”  
“Give me a moment.” Legolas forcibly swallowed the slice of meat pie. The nausea threatened to well up in him. I have to eat, he told himself firmly. I deserve to eat. I deserve to live. It’s what Haldir would have wanted.  
He’d repeated the words Elrond had taught him so many times that Legolas was surprised he didn’t say them in his sleep. The unwanted sickness faded, and he took a grateful gulp of water. He hadn’t had trouble eating for several months now, but today, it was to be expected.   
Thranduil’s people had recovered Haldir’s body, which was sent back to Lothlorien to be buried. Today, on the anniversary of his death, Legolas had come to visit the grave. Of course, Estel came with him. Nothing Legolas said would have dissuaded the human, not that he would have wanted to. As always, he was glad for Estel’s company.   
“I’m ok,” he said eventually as the spasm passed. Estel’s eyes cleared. One of the things Legolas had been broken of quickly was lying about his state, mental or physical. It only made everyone suffer more, both him and everyone around him. Now, when he said he was fine, Estel believed him, because he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t truly mean it.   
Estel appraised the prince’s expression for a moment before quickly surmising what he needed, so adept had the human become at reading his moods. Right now, Legolas needed a distraction from his dismal thoughts, and Estel was quick to provide one.   
“Once we’re done here, I say we should head back to Greenwood. I know your Ada said we could stay as long as we need, but personally, I think that if we leave him alone with his new manservant for too long, someone is going to lose a head.”  
Legolas laughed at this. When Thranduil’s old servant had retired, finding someone new who the king found suitable had been quite an ordeal. Of course, it hadn’t been helped along by the twins’ pranks. Thranduil still had no idea that it was in fact no fault of his third appointee that the king’s hair had mysteriously turned bright blue after washing it with a soap that the hapless servant insisted he hadn’t tampered with.  
Of course, Elladan and Elohir had felt bad after that particular incident and the summary dismissal of the servant, who was now a grudging Elladan’s squire. Elohir found this particularly hilarious, mercilessly teasing his brother that only the weaker of the two required a squire to help don his armor and sharpen his weapons.   
He wasn’t laughing so much when Elladan sat back happily at camp and relaxed as the other twin grudgingly tended to the chores with Gavir.   
“So?” the human asked quietly. It had become his custom to ask Legolas about his troubles whenever he read the on the prince’s face, or when they went through something that was sure to trigger memories.  
“I still miss him,” Legolas sighed. “I wish he was here… but Elrond is right. He’d want me to live my life. I want that, too. I want to live.”  
He could say no more before Estel pulled him into a bone crushing hug. “I know, gwador. I know you’ve told me that several times now, but it’s always a relief to hear again.”  
Legolas relaxed into the embrace for a few moments before pulling away and giving the human a cheeky smile. “Speaking of, there’s a certain servant who might not live should we delay much longer. Shall we?”  
Estel offered him a hand up, and the two friends walked back to their horses, arm in arm, laughing as they headed off toward their next adventure.


End file.
